The Dog Demon Heir
by InuYasha-myhero
Summary: I'm not much good at coming up with a summary for this story. So just read it to find what it is about. Pairings: InuKags InuKikyo MiroSango KaguraNaraku Affairs:InuSango KagsShesshomaru KagsKoga InuKoga(Not much of them together, it's just mentioned.)
1. The Dog Demon Heir

Disclaimer. I don't own the Inu gang, just borrowing.Here you go guys. Something new, you probally never heard of 

**_Introduction_**

_** Death**_

**THE LADY OF THE CASTLE** huddled with her children in the shattered tower. The sky reached down in grey mist and bitter smoke, between the broken stones. Below the lowering clouds, the shadows of circling birds danced like demons, screeching with parched throats for carrion.

All around the castle, the sound of battle still crashed; the hoarse cries of desperate men, the ring of steel, the immaculate hiss of arrows. The lady's cheek were dry, as were her eyes. Her arms were about her children, and she muttered in the ancient tongue an invocation. "Come rise, come unto me, deepest dream, come from the sky, from the lost and rise, come unto me, leaping heart, here to my sight, to my soul." The children were silent among her dust-scored, ragged skirts. Their eyes were old and their faces grave and resigned. Grubby fingers clung to her, perhaps without hope.

The lady knew that below her, amid the blood and the noise, history was being made. Her line, and her husband's line, would not end here, but change. When the men with the black and purple banners pierced the heart of Caradore, came loping like wolves down the seared passages and, finally, beat down the last door of her sanctuary, they would no longer be fired with the lust of killing. Her invocation had made sure of that, even if she lacked the power for greater effect. Her body might suffer, as would the bodies of her older daughters, but they would survive. It was necessary. Had not her guides taught her the wisdom of patience? History was a tapestry long in the making, and through time the threads would change. She must protect the heir to this house, whatever it took. "Come rise, come unto me....." Her voice cracked.

"Mama." A single word.

"Hush, little one. Hush." She rocked her body back and forth, waiting for the heart's pierce which would tell her that her husband was dead. There was a moment's stillness, and fragments of dust, ash and straw sifted down from the ruined ceiling. Then came the baying roar from the enemy, the irrepressible caw of triumph. She felt in her heart, felt the light go out. It doesn't matter, she told herself, it doesn't matter.

**THE CONQUEROR,THE KING **of wolves, was Cassilin, son of the great Magravandian house of Malagash. Now, he held court in the place where once the banners of the Dogs had swung. The hall of old Caradore had been unsealed; its ceilings were embers. Rain came down now, turning the pungent ashes to a gruel of bone and earth. The grey blocks of the walls were blackened, bannered with bright blood; the smooth flagstones of the floor slick and dark, their crimson carpets soaked like moss, releasing an odor of must and meat fat. The dog demons, and their rough army, had fought with passion to defend their ancient domain, and the king of wolves respected this. An entrenched code of honor nestled uncomfortably beside his ambition and lust for power. He had coveted this high, feral land, and now it was his. Caradore, and its guardian family, the dog demons, had once belonged to the sea. Their flags were adorned with the ocean's brutal, yet fragile, monsters: dogs of the forest; proud, attenuated and powerful. If the mournful cries of their shattered ghosts achoed from the forests trees now, no one heard them. The flags had fallen and were burned. The demons had clashed and wolves reigned triumphant.

The king of wolves was omnipotent, drunk on his conquest. Wherever he moved inthe world, crowns fell before him, and towers and banners. He was the spearhead of the new empire, filled with the energy of the god, Madragore, and his smoking eyes. This wind-sculpted corner of land was not far from the heart of his empire, but had proved resistant. The ancient families here knew the old wisdom and used it. They understood the language of the waves and their cold denizens. Ultimately, it had been no match fot the hot, youthful zeal of Madragore.

When his men had finished with the women, the king, who would be emperor, had them brought unto him; the wife of his slain enemy, her cowering daughters veiled in blood. Boy children hung wide-eyed from their skirts. They could not swear fealty to Madragore, the god, because in their terror and despair they could not speak. He would be merciful.

Someone called out," All hail to Cassilin Malagash, divine king, emperor of Magravandias, the spiritual son of Madragore! All hail!"

The king of wolves accepted this annunciation. It belonged to him. He had coveted this land for a long time; it was beautiful and wild, as were its people. He also needed its special power for his campaigns. Now, he rose from the blackened throne and addressed the lady of the castle, whose husband was dead, his head impaled upon a rail somewhere in the outer courts.

"Madam, I grant you the clemency of Madragore. Give to me your eldest son."

The lady did not cringe or falter. She remained silent, her body bent with pain and despair, yet somehow regal.

The king of wolves stepped down to the floor of the court, his mailed feet firm upon the scum of drenched ash and blood. He inspecrted the brats pawing their mother's skirts, seeking a hiding place, finding nothing but rents and tears. One by one, he prized them away, held them up by their arms to inspect their faces. They dangled in his grip like puppies, wriggling feebly. Which was the one? She would try to hide the demon heir. She had no doubt put a glamor on him. It was essential he was recognized, the mark of Madragore put upon him.

The king found an idiot boy, who drooled, whose eyes rolled. He did not look like a son of the House of Dog Demons. It must be the one; ensorcelled. The king knew he had made the right choice when the lady uttered a low, sad sound.

He hauled the boy across the floor and called his mages. They came to him from the shadows; some drooping with age or dissipation, hidden by cowls, others fierce and upright with narrow eyes and lipless smiles. They bowed to the king of wolves, their tall crowns of black and indigo inclined precariously." Do what has to be done," said the king, dropping the boy at their feet.

The mages walked around the crawling child, their hands curled above their hearts. Their robes hissed along the damp floor, but otherwise they made no sound.

Presently, they began to hum, each chest expelling a different tone. It seemed the notes writhed together in the air somewhere above their heads and become another thing; dense and definite, yet invisible. The boy was caged by their voices, and the glamor that protected him decomposed. He crouched with terrified eyes, trying to appear staunch and resigned. The king of wolves and his black sorcerers were not deceived.

At a signal from the mages, soldiers stepped forward and lifted the boy between them. He was carried out into courtyard, where bodies lay like slaughterhouse rags and tatters of banners flapped soddenly in the forest wind. The rain had seethed away, but the wind itself was damp, tasting of pine. A fire now raged in a blackened brazier in the center of the yard; its flames a gout of color in the rinsed world.

The boy knelt with bowed head, his hands between his knees, his black hair like a veil about his face. Only a short distance away, his father's head grimaced from its pike. The body lay somewhere among the others, discarded and unrecognizable, its center of power hacked away.

The mages stripped the boy of his clothes and then bound his body with a net of indigo cords. They shaved off his thick black hair. All the while, they chanted in guttural, snarling voices. Their words seemed to leave smoke hanging in the air that the wind could not disperse. Once they had bound him, he was flung between them, spinning around, presented to each of the elemental corners, while his clothes burned on the spitting fire that leaned away from the wind.

The king of wolves watched the ritual without expression. In his heart, the small thing that gave him grace empathised with the Dog Demon heir. The boy looked so vulnerable, shaved and naked, stumbling as the mages pushed him cruelly around the courtyard. The cold must be biting into his young skin, seizing his bones. But it is necessary, thought the king. The Dog Demon heir must bow to Madragore.

Now the mages held the boy firm beside the fire. A brand had been heating there, bearing the mark of go. The boy did not struggle, perhaps had become mindless with fear, for he was so young. He began to shudder uncontrollably once the brand had been pressed onto the back of his neck, but he did not cry out.The mark was livid against his pale skin, and an ephemeral reek of burned meat filled the hurrying wind.

They took him then down to the shore, where the waves pounced upon the rocks, destroying themselves in clouds of foam. Here, another fire was built, splashed with liquors to encourage the flames. The widow of Caradore and her remaining children were conducted there also, to watch the final ceremony. The sea was grey, implaceable, and the sky full of tears that did not fall. Never had Caradore seemed so unwelcoming and stark.

The archmage, a tall, inhumanly pale and reptilian man, stood behind the boy and faced him out to the sea. The Dog Demon heir had been dressed in a robe of dark indigo, so that he looked like a neophyte priest, with his naked head and thin neck. The brand was crimson above the collar of his robe and glistened with pain-killing unguent. He must be in possession of his senses for this ultimate rite and pain robbed any man of such acuity.

The archmage's voice was soft, yet it rang out clearly above the crash of the waves, the complaint of the wind. "Hear me, oh lords of the spiritual west, the realm of water. We take unto ourselves the rightful heir to the provinces of the forest, who is Valraven, son of Mestipen, son of Rualdon. We take unto ourselves the power of the Dog Demon heir, so that he must pay fealty to the lord of wolves, Madragore, father of the great mountian, of the flame of the soul. As the heir bears the mark of Madragore, we say unto you, should he not serve god's avatar in life, should he forsake the banner of Magravandias, the fire now within him will consume his body and all his domain."

The mage's voice became quieter, confidential."Do you understand this, boy?"

The boy paused, then nodded his head once. He understood. His mother's words came back to him dimly, from a hundred years ago-----yesterday-----as the ground had shaken at the approach of th Magravandian horde. The sun had shone then, and the flags on the seven towers had cracked on the clean wind. Clouds had raced high across the sky as if in panic. "Remember," his mother had whispered,"your life is safe. If your father lacks the power to protect himself, and the power passes on, the enemy will not kill you. You are only a boy and they will think you tractable, easier to control than your father. You must do as they direct and be patient. The line must not die with you, Valraven, but sleep. All things come to an end. Find the faith inside you, wrap it up carefully and lay it to rest. Never speak of what you know to your sons. The heritage must be forgotten. That will be its salvatian. Others will come later and find it. It will be a secret gift to your own heirs."

Now, he bowed his head and felt the seared skin on the back of his neck stretch and burn. He knew what they would tell him to do next, and perhaps a more fearless person might refuse. His father would not have approved of his mother's advice. He would have told Valraven he should die rather than betray the power they served. Their line might die, yes, but the power would not go away. It would only wait for someone else. Valraven could not be that brave: he wanted to live.

"Repeat after me," said the archmage, his fingers like clamps on the boy's shoulders."I, Valraven, heir of Caradore, swear fealty to Madragore and all his denizens."

Haltingly, the boy spoke, his voice thin, hardly heard.

The mage nodded approvingly and continued. "I give unto my god all the power of my tribe, and of the sea, and its creatures. Should I forsake my oath, may the fires of Madragore consume me and my domain."

Futher up the beach, cold tears ran down the face of the Lady of Caradore. Imperceptibly, she shook her head. Yet it was right that this should happen. Valraven must not die. There had been enough waste. Old Caradore was lost. She already knew that she and her family would be moved to the summer castle further south and there the new seat of the Dog demons would be established. The dog demons as Madragore's servants. No one could fight Magravandias, not yet. It would take many lifetimes.

Her eldest daughter slipped her hand through her elbow. Together, they watched the waves pulse up the shore, reaching for the fire that burned there. Presently, Valraven was led away by the mages, and everyone began to climb back to the scene of battle. The lady paused at the cliff's foot. She saw the tide's return and the fore hiss to blackened ashes. The water dragged the embers into itself, until there was only a faint mark upon the sand. It was a message from time.

(A/N.)There you go guys, this chapter is meant to led up to the main part of the story. Please R&R.

Anybody who seen Inu Yasha before:Caradore is another name in my story for the Western Lands

Madragore is another name for the Northern Lands.


	2. Dream

**_I_**

_** DREAM**_

_**Two hundred years later:**_

**WHEN SANGO WAS ONLY **seven years old, she dreamed of the ancient dogs. They danced in the sky for her, like moving pictures from a book, their wings of shell and bone fanned out against the piercing stars. She stood on the beach below them, jumping up and down, clappinng her hands. They danced for her alone.

When she awoke, it was still dark, and she could hear the restless sea fretting at the shore below the castle. The dream had filled her up with strange sensations that felt like excitement, the sort of feeling she had when she was about to go out visiting her friends with her brother, Inu Yasha. She still wanted to jump up and down.

Although she never mentioned the dream to anyone, she thought about it often, until it eventually became buried beneath layers of other dreams and experiences. In later years, she would realise that the dog dream had marked the moment when she'd discovered there was more to life than what the senses beheld, and what others told her. Life was a secret, or a labyrinth of secrets. She had entered the outer chamber. Her father had still been alive then.

Sango's mother had died as she'd struggled to expel her daughter into the world. The girl child had followed the arrival of her twin brother, Inu Yasha, by scant minutes; setting the precedent for the haste in which she strove to keep up with him in later life. Sango knew her mother only from portraits, which her grieving father had hung about the castle. In every room, dead Lerinie still held sway; gazing down her patrician nose, smiling privately upon her children. In some ways, the pictures were rather sinister. Sango wondered what her mother had really been like. She was astute enough to recognize the gloss of her father's feelings over the portraits, since every one of them had been commissioned after her mother's death. When she asked Inu Yasha what he thought, he seemed uncomfortable and would only mutter a stupid answer. Kagura, her older sister, told her _that _was what boys were like. They couldn't talk about personal things, so Sango shoudn't be surprised or affronted. Kagura was only too ready to relate stories of their mother. She had been nine when Lerinie had died, and despite the fact she had adored her mother, seemed not to resent the twins for their part in her demise. She had become their surrogate darn, and enjoyed the role. Memories were perhaps sweeter than reality. As far as Sango could gather, Lerinie seemed to have had little time for her elder daughter. She had been a busy women, forever gadding about Caradore visiting the estates of other noble families. Kagura suggested that Lerinie had a purpose for her, which she'd been keeping on hold until an appropriate time, such as the onset of womanhood. Unfortunately, her unexpected death had prevented her from revealing what this purpose might have been. No one had thought mere child-birth could have killed Lerinie. She'd been strong.

Resigned and royal, Kagura had picked up the bloodied mantle of motherhood and wrapped it around her own small frame. Perhaps it had been that which had made her grow. By ten, she was tall enough to peer over the heads of several of the castle guards.

**Inu Taisho was **sometimes away from home for months at a stretch, because he was held in high esteem by the emporer and was therefore required to spend time at court in Magrast, the capital city, or else direct campaigns for conquest and containment further afield. Kagura told the twins that since their mother's death, the emperor, Leonid II(this means the 2nd if you don't understand it well), had allowed their father to spend more time at home. The emperor himself had visited Caradore on several occasions, each time claiming over dinner that the sea air did him good. He looked upon his visits as holidays, even though he brought with him a milling entourage of clerks, generals and attendents, and spent most of the time closeted in Inu Taisho private office discussing politics and war.

Sango and her twin thought the emperor rather a ridiculous figure. He was neither tall nor fat, but seemed altogether too large to fit comfortably into any environment. His voice was not coarse or even particularly loud, but it carried far. His laughter was free and spontaneous, but somehow inappropriate. He was eager and bouncy, like an overfriendly lion cub; tawny and golden and laced with hidden claws. They supposed he'd look more at homein the great city Magrast, where everything was grand and organized. Caradore was sprawling and relaxed, and the emperor seemed like an irritant within its shell, getting bigger and bigger as his visit progressed, perhaps in the same way that a pearl forms in an oyster from a grain of sand. He singled the younger dog demon children out for attention and, as they wriggled uncomfortably beneath his compelling gaze, told them about his own sons. The scions of the empire were paragons of male virtue, accomplished in every desired skill. The emperor never brought any of them with him to Caradore, however, and if there was a Madam Emperor, she might as well have not existed.

Sometimes, in her bed at night, Sango would think about how the greatest man in all the world sat drinking and chatting with her father somewhere below. The Dog demons were the most privileged of families. She knew that her great-great-grandfather's sister had been married to an ancestor of the emperor's----his great-great-grandfather----and that the two families were therefore related. The emperor did not feel like a relative, though, despite his attempts at avuncular charm. If his sons were her distant cousins, why hadn't she met them?

"The man we see is not the man that is," Kagura said, during one of his visits. "He is like a god in Magrast, yet here, he can be a boy, perhaps the child he never was. We should not be deceived by appearances. In the capital, he would probably barely acknowledge us."

Everyone in the castle knew that the emperor came to Caradore to escape the city. Perhaps, if he'd not had this refuge, he'd have gone mad. It must be difficult for one man to keep taut all the reins that controlled the empire.

Kagura said that after their mother had died, the emperor had come straight away to Caradore, perhaps abandoning important buisness in Magrast. He cared for their father, and despite his elevated status, took charge of the household in the wake of grief, organizing an unusually grand funeral for Lerinie and making sure that the business of the estate ran smoothly.

After Lerinie died, Inu Taisho should have taken another wife. Kagura told Sango that he must have more male heirs in case anything should happen to Inu Yasha. There had been two other boy children between the birth of Kagura and the twins, but both had died. Sango was appalled by the idea her brother was not immortal, and did not want to think what life might be like without him. Still, whether their father had the intention to remarry or not, hed did not outlive his crushing greif. When the twins were ten, he was involved in a riding accident and died from his injuries. Afterwards, Sango had seen the grey stallion responsible; rolling his eyes ahd stamping in his stall. Later, the men of the castle had built a fire on the beach, and everyone had gone down there in the evening. One of the women from the kitchen hadslit the throat of the horse and the blood had run down the sand to the sea.

No one questioned that Kagura was now mistress of Caradore; Inu Yasha's guardian and spiritual guide. She was only nineteen, but dressed and behaved like a much older woman.

Sango could not feel sorry for her father. She sensed his life had not been happy; grief had bowed his shoulders and greyed his hair. Dead wife, dead sons. It had pained her young heart to see him moving slowly around the castle alone, lost in his private thoughts. When he'd looked upon his surving children, his eyes had been full of sadness. They'd never heard him laugh, yet he'd been kindly, if remote. He must have loved their mother so much. Now, his spirit was free. As the people of Caradore danced a slow, wistful pavanne upon the wide shore, Sango had felt a lightness inside her. It musrt be hope or freedom.

After their father's death, the emperor did not visit Caradore again, although he would send gifts to the children to mark various religious festivals. Sometimes, Sango wondered how he was coping without his sanctuary. Had they all made him feel so unwelcome that he no longer felt he could visit? She could not say she liked the man particularly, but deep in her heart felt sorry for him, realizing at the same time, this solicitude might be misplaced. She discussed it with her sister, and Kagura sent a letter to the emperor's steward, tactfully worded, but implying they hoped His Mightiness would still look upon their home as his. They recieved a formal reply, thanking them for their invitation, but making no mention of a visit, although there was a paragraph concerning Inu Yasha's future training in the army. The letter was altogether disappointing, if not slightly threatening.

**THROUGHOUT HER CHILDHOOD**, Sango's best female friend was Kikyo, the eldest daughter of the Leckery family, who lived a two-hour ride away at the family domain of Norgance. Montimer Leckery, Kikyo's father, was hardly ever at home, because the emperor needed him in the army. Montimer was a great general, weighed down with medals. So, Norgance, like Caradore, was a household devoid of a patriarch. This situation prevailed in most of the noble houses of Caradore.

Inu Yasha was always the one closest to Sango's heart, but she soon learned that there were some things only a female companion could provide or understand. While Inu Yasha played boisterous games on the high moors above Norgance with Kikyo's elder brother, Miroku, the girls sat nearby, the wind in their hair, wrapped in their own feminine pastimes. Usually, this involved planning out their future lives. THey would act out fantasies of love, without fully understanding what this might entail. Are we in love with each other's brothers? they wondered, their sly young eyes peering through curtains of hair. The boys, ignorant of the intent inspection, slashed the heather with sticks to drive out snakes and lizards.

One day, when the girls were eleven, Kikyo announced,"I shall marry Inu Yasha." Sango stared at Miroku, to decide if she could echo this sentiment. They had climbed to one of the cloud forests high above Norgance, the boys carrying a picnic pannier between them. Much to Kikyo's annoyance, her mother, Saska, had forced them to take Kikyo's younger sister, Rin, with them.

Now, the cakes and watered wine had been devoured and the boys were climbing trees. Kikyo, Sango and Rin sat on the springy grass, making chains of flowers: red for blood and white for the sky. Sunlight came down in coins through the branches, making heat patches on their arms and hair. Miroku had jumped out of a tree and was looking up at Inu Yasha who was still clambering. Leaves showered down and dusty twigs. Squirrels fled in outrage through the high canopy. Miroku was certainly handsome, Sango decided. His heavy black hair fell over his face all the time. She liked the way he brushed it bck, wrinkling up his nose and frowning.

"You will marry Miroku," Kikyo said, clearly thinking her friend had more than enough time to respond.

Sango smiled."Yes, I shall wear a russet gown, decorated with sea pansies, and I shall twine coral in my hair."

Kikyo sighed, caught up in the image."On my wedding day, I shall ride in a carriage drawn by eight white horses and their hooves will be gilded."

Sango was familiar with the picture book from which this image derived. One of her earliest tutors had shown it to her. It depicted a gleeful princess riding towards her prince. Why couldn't she share the dream? In her heart, the dark red of her wedding dress was the deep bloodied shade of mouring, heavy with lilies of the grave, and her hair was spiked with bleached bones. It must be Kagura putting these thoughts into her head. She liked to talk about death, and seemed to find it more romantic than love.

"I shall marry a man who comes out of the sea," said Rin, broken petals spilling from her fingers.

Kikyo made a scornful noise."Shut up. You're too young to think about such things. Why would anyone want to marry you? You're like a slimy fish."

Rin shrugged resignedly. It was true she was strangely pale and her almost colorless hair floated on the air like seaweed in water. Sango felt she ought to defend the girl. "Perhaps she's right, Kikyo. Rin looks like a mermaid." She patted Rin's unyielding shoulder. "Maybe you'll find someone on the shore one day, a wounded merman needing help. He may be handsome."

"We don't live next to the sealike you do,"Kikyo said."That's the sort of thing that would happen to you." She pulled a face at her sister.

Rin neither smiled nor frowned. She concentrated only on the blooms in her lap. Her placid nature seemed sometimes to verge on the abnormal.

**FOR A COUPLE OF **years after this, the girls' fantasies veered more towards heroes of legend. They decided that one day, they would come across slumbering, ensorcelled knights in a cave deep in the forest. Their maidenly kisses would bring heat back to the marble flesh. They would be whisked away on stallions of thunder, up to castles in the clouds, where ranks of blind witches with coppery hair would sing eternally for their husbands' exploits.

Sango also liked to indulge these fantasis when she was alone. Sometimes, in a sea cave on the beach of Caradore, she'd imagine her faceless hero kissing her. She would feel his hands upon her back and the tickle of his hair on her face. The feelings these daydreams aroused were strange and powerful. They made her want to laugh and run.

Inu Yasha found her once, giggling to herself and splashing her feet in a pool. Sunlight slanting through the cave mouth made watery patterns on the damp, black walls. "Sango, what's the matter with you?"

She froze, embarrassed, conscious of her skirts hitched up to her thighs, the heat in her flesh.

Inu Yasha was framed in the entrance, the sea pounding behind him, his hair flapping in wet tendrils around his shoulders. "What have you been doing? I've been looking for you." Although his eyes were in shadow, she sensed he took in her wanton appearance and wondered about it.

She could not tell him what she'd been thinking. Not only were her thoughts private, she felt they might hurt him in some way.

"Race you!" she cried and launched herself past him out of the cave. He seemed at once to forget how he'd found her and charged up the beach behind her, overtook her and ran backwards, punching the air. His delight in beating her was so simple and pure, so _male_ as Kagura would have said. Sango could have outrun him any time. She loved him so much it was like a stomach pain. Who needed heroes when she had Inu Yasha? But he was her brother, and no one married their brother. Could she surrender him to Kikyo? The idea was not entirely pleasent. She thought of the future, when Kikyo would sit across a table from him at breakfast time, accompany him on visits to friends and ride with him on eager horses across the wild cliffs. Where would Sango fit into this picture? There did not seem a space for her. Those are _my_ things, she thought. Kikyo can't have them.

(A/N.)There you go guys. Another chapter, you will understand the story more by this chapter.


	3. Truth

**_2_**

**_Truth_**

**WHEN SANGO WAS FIFTEEN,** Kagura changed. Two important things happend. The first was that Kagura fell in love. This in itself was a revelation, and the condition seemed to rest uneasily on Kagura's gaunt frame. Love did not suit her. Her face was not made for dreamy expressions, and her long, restless body did not fit comfortably into postures of romantic languor. The object of her affections was the son of their late father's equerry. Sango failed to see the attraction. To her, Nqaraku was a plain, uninteresting man, who was always clutching at something; his hat in his hands, his jacket collar, the hem of his shirt. He blushed easily too, which made his scalp show through his rather thin black hair. By this time, Kikyo and Sango had discovered the mechanics of physical love from one of Kikyo's maids---a worldly girl---and the thought of lustful feelings gusting through either Kagura or Naraku, never mind together, seemed absurd, if not obscene. The subject provided hours of merriment, which clearly embarrassed Miroku and Inu Yasha. They would always leave the room, or wander off, if the girls started discussing the supposed minutiae of Kagura's impending sex life.

At first, Sango thought that the other change in her sister was merely a result of the former.She seemed to become more aloof, almost secretive. At times, her eyes would shine with private passion. She would gaze off into the distance and her lips would drop open, very slightly. It was only when Kagura summoned her sister, in an unusually formal way, to accompany her on a walk upon the cliffs that Sango discovered the truth.

Dune grasses rattled along the path as they walked and the ceaseless wind mussed their clothes and hair. Kagura seemed unnaturally serious, which given she was a serious person at the best of times, meant she had something extremely important to say.

"Sango," she said, the word like a shout in the wild air." There is something you must know."

She is going to be married, Sango thought in wonder. She said nothing.

Kagura stopped walking and turned her sister to face her."I have discovered our heritage."

The words hung between them, and Sango supposed they meant something."What is it?"

Kagura gazed above Sango's head, out at the ocean."We have been dispossessed!" she hissed.

An urge to laugh fought to express itself in Sango's narrow chest. Kagura looked so dramatic, all wide eyes, hawk nose and flailing hair."In what way?" she managed to say.

Kagura sighed."You are so young, and in some ways, I feel I shouldn't speak to you about this yet, but now that I know, I have to share it with my sister, whatever her age. You are a wise girl, Sango, and even if this knowledge becomes a burden to you, I think you should know."

The first seeds of unease began to sprout in Sango's mind. Kagura wasn't going to tell her she was getting married. This was more serious. She had a dread it concerned Inu Yasha."What have you found out?"

"Look at the sea,"Kagura said. They both stood in silence, Sango tense with apprehension. What was she supposed to be seeing?

"How powerful it is,"Kagura murmured."Such strength! It is around us all the time, pounding and pounding, yet we are so used to it, we do not hear it."

For the first time in many years, an image of the dog demon dream came back to Sango's mind, its flavor strong and intact."Sometimes we do," she said."It does intrude---sometimes."

Kagura glanced down at her. "That's true....Perhaps you feel it already---the truth, I mean."

"I think so." Did she? Sango had a feeling that whatever Kagura said would not surprise her.

"It concerns the emperor," Kagura said.

Sango shuddered. Surely Inu Yasha hadn't been summoned to court already? "What have you heard? Has he written? Will Inu have to leave?"

Kagura closed her eyes briefly and shook her head, her hand reaching out for her sister's shoulder. "No, no, not yet. I've heard nothing from Magrast. This news came from somewhere else."

"Where? What news?" Sango's heart was beating fast now, as if a creature with frantic wings fluttered in her breast, trying to escape.

Kagura took a deep breath, and simultaneously a fist of wind buffeted against them, muffling her words. "We have not always been favorites of the empire. At one time, Caradore was a independent state."

Sango did not think this particularly surprising. "At one time, the whole of the empire must have been independent states."

"Yes, I know. But remember that in order to be part of an empire, a country first has to be conquered."

Because of their father's friendship with the emperor and their distant relationship, Sango had alwys assumed her people had affiliated themselves willingly to Magravandias. She was chilled to think it might have happened a different way. "Was there a war?" she asked, anticipating the answer with sinking heart. She did not want the history to be bloody; it would mean the Dog demons weren't such a privilaged family after all. Why hadn't her tutors ever told her of this?

Kagura nodded briefly. "Yes. There was a war. Our great-great-grandfather's sister was a spoil of it, to cement the alliance. And other things happened too...."

"What other things?"

Kagura took her lower lip between her teeth. Why was she finding this so difficult? It happened so long ago. "Sango, something was taken from us, something very important and special."

"Money? Land?"

"No! Our heritage. The old ways, the old beliefs. All gone. Our ancestor, Valraven, was a boy when it happened. The Magravands came, led by the second emperor. They killed the Lord of Caradore, and took the boy, Valraven, as their own. It is so terrible. They made him swear an oath to Madragore that bound his dynasty to the empire for eternity. If he, or his descendants, should forsake it, then Caradore will perish in flame."

The story _was_ terrible, Sango thought, but even if it was true, how could it affect them now? It had happened so long ago, and had no bearing on the present. Times change, things are forgotten. If anything, it was inconvenient to know these facts. What could they do about it now? The Magravands might originally have ridden into Caradore as conquerors, yet while their father was alive the emperor had looked upon it as a refuge, the abode of a beloved friend. "It is nothing to do with us,"Sango said.

Kagura glanced down at her. "You are wrong. It has _everything _to do with us, not least Inu. From the day of the conquest forward, every firstborn son of our house has had Inu in their name. It is to help keep something alive. They are kings, Sango, but without a kingdom. I know you don't want to hear these things, but you must."

"What else is there to know?"

"The Dog,"Kagura said, gazing out at the ocean. She lifted a hand, pointed. "The Dog demons."

Sango took a moment to consider these words. It had been no coincidense an image of her dream had come back to her. "Wht of them?"

"We were the guardians of the sea power. The dog demons danced for our ancestors, gave them knowledge of the ocean realm and its secrets. The women were their priestess, and the dog demon heir their spiritual son. The firstborn boy of every generation was a channel for the power. He was the lord of Caradore in more than one way. His presence ensured the vitality of the land, its security and fertility. The Magravands took this from us, because they wanted that power for themselves. That is why our father, and his father before him, was taken into the court of Magrast. Soon, it will be the same for Inu. The dog demon heir is a symbol, almost like a insignia of war. Whatever army he leads will win their battles."

"No wonder the emperor was so fond of Dada!" Sango exclaimed. _Could _this all be true?

Kagura nodded. "The dogs have sunk back into the sea. We cannot call them to us any more. The power is in the land and in our blood, but we have lost that special connection with the sea. It has been severed."

"Kagura, how do you know these things?"

Kagura pursed her lips. "Saska Leckery," she said.

Sango experienced a wave of both disappointment and relief. It was only stories, then. Kikyo's mother was like an unofficial aunt to the dogs. She had helped Kagura a lot since their mother had died, but despite many kind and noble qualities, had a busy tongue and an active imagination. It was well known in the district that gossip deriving from Saska was prone to rigorous exaggeration. "How does Saska know this if we do not?"

"Don't you see?" Kagura snapped. "This is what our mother would have told me! Saska intimated as much. Apparently, Mama spoke to Saska about it a long time ago. She said that if anything wer3e to happen to her, Saska should be the one to pass on the knowledge."

"I'm not sure about all this," Sango said, her eyes narrow. "If it's true, I think other people would have told us."

"Oh, Sango, can't you just trust your instincts? I know you feel the truth of it inside. There is more. The women of this land have secretly preserved a lot of the ancient traditions. There is a cabal of priestess, loyal to the dogs, who keep the old ways alive. It is like a tiny flame that cannot be stoked, for then it would be noticeable, but at least it keeps the death of belief at bay. And I...."She paused, frowned.

"Have become involved in it," Sango finished.

Kagura glanced down at her. "I'm not supposed to speak of it. The tradition has to be secret because it is opposes the law of Magradore."

"Is Saska in it?"

"Yes."

Sango sighed. She imagined a bunch of the local matriarchs dancing in secret to the legend of dogs. It seemed absurd. How could Kagura be so taken in? She doubted there was harmin it, but it seemed ridiculous too. When she thought of the emperor, she could not imagine his ancestors involved in dark or magical deeds. He seemed so light and golden. And yet, there was the dog dream. She remembered the feelings it had inspired within her, and suddenly the secret history seemed much more credible. "You'll have to prove all this to me," she said.

Kagura smiled carefully. "I anticipated as much. You are too young to join the sisterhood, but the evidence is there on Inu, if you care to look."

"What evidence?"

"On the back of his neck, you'll find the mark of Madragore. Our great-great-grandfather was branded there by the Magravand mages. The mark is passed on through the father and is part of what binds the dog demon heir to Madragore. I want you to look for it. Once you've seen it, will you believe me?"

Sango thought she must have seen Inu naked a thousand times since they were babies. She could not remember having seen a mark. "What is it supposed to look like?"

"The moon of the god ." Kagura took her sister's shoulders in a strong grip. "Sango, I was driven to confide in you, even though it contravenes the laws of the sisterhood. I should have waited another few years before entrusting you with this knowledge, but some instinct has forced me to speak now. You must not reveal what I've told you to anyone. Do you understand? Not even Inu."

"Why not? Surely he should be told, too."

Kagura shook her head. "No. This knowledge will only damage him. In a few years' time, he will be summoned to Magrast, and must go in innocence. The priestesses work constantly to undo the magic of the mages, and one day will succeed. On that day, the dogs will rise from the sea, and thefoundation of the empire will crack. Then, we shall create change. But until that moment, the dog demon heir must remain ignorant of his heritage. Our great-great-grandmother, Ilcretia, initiated the Sisterhood of the Dog, and she decreed what must be so. We have to trust her judgement, even now. Promise me you'll keep silent. Swear on Inu's life!"

Sango hesitated. Kagura seemed panicked now, perhaps thinking she'd acted impulsively to unburden herslef. Relenting, Sango softened. "All right. I swear on Inu's life to keep your secret."

Kagura's grip slackened on her shoulders. She bowed her head. "Good. Good. Look for the mark, Sango."

**IT OCCURRED TO SANGO** that love might have driven Kagura a little strange. After their walk, Sango wandered down to the beach alone. On the sand, she looked up and saw her sister strolling along the clifftop towards the castle, her gaunt body erect, but her head bent. There had been a kind of madness in Kagura's urgency.

Sango went down to her sea-cave, the place where she always hid herself to think. The tide was coming in and soon the cave would be flooded. Sango clambered over the rocks, soaking her skirts. Futher back, the floor sloped upwards and the cave narrowed to a tunnel. If she wriggled and struggled up the throat of stone, it would lead her out onto the clifftops. She had used it often when the tide had cut her off from the beach. She crouched on a high ledge, watching the water surge and coil beneath her.

Dog demons. There was an echo of a feeling within her; some ancient memory had been prodded and awoken. Inu Yasha: the dog demon heir. It made sense to her. There was a feyness about him, something tragic, which might be his stolen heritage. Was it this knowledge that had hung so heavily about their father? She had never known him before her mother had died, so she had no way of telling. Kagura, presumably, had been too young to remember. But perhaps their grandfather had not known the truth. Perhaps their great-great-grandfather had never spoken of it to his sons, and only the womenhad carried the secret forward into the future. She experienced a moment of irritation that Kagura's "sisters" would not want her to know about this yet. The knowledge belonged to the dogs, more so than anyone else. Kagura had been right to tell her. Poor Inu. So innocent, so beautiful, yet weirdly cursed. Emotion overcame her and she had to let the tears fall. Sadness welled up, threshing anf lashing like the incoming tide. There was truth in the feeling. Perhaps she had known all along.

Later, as the sun set, she clambered out of the chimney of stone. Inu wuld have missed her at dinner. What could she say to him? Now, she had to see if the mark was there.

She found him at the stables, exercising his bay gelding in the yard. He looked so at haome on the animal, his spine straight, his shoulders squared. His hair was tied in a cord at his neck, flowing like a horse's tail down his back. The moment he caught sight of her leaning against the fence, he began to perform, making the horse gambol and curve. Sango smiled. Why did she feel so much older than him? He kindled a nurturing urge within her that made her feel melancholy. His beauty made hi ephemeral, like a dragonfly.

She had an idea that she would offer to brush his hair for him, but realized that even this simple plan would take some maneuvering. She had brushed his hair a thousand times, but now, because there was a purpose to it, she thought he would sense her intent, ask questions.

Presently, he urged his horse over to the fence and there made it rear to a halt. Sango reached out to pat the sweating neck of the animal.

"Where've you been?"Inu Yasha said. "You missed dinner, and Kagura didn't say a thing. What's going on?"

"I went for a walk," she answered. "Got lost in my thoughts."

Inu Yasha pulled a comical face and slipped down from the horse'a back. "You must be hungry, then. Let's go to the kitchens."

He made to pull the cord from his hair, but Sango hurried to stay his hands. "Let me," she said. "You know what you'r e like. You'll make a tangle."

He laughed, turned his back to her and threw back his head, hands on hips. Her fingers shook as she fumbled with the knot. She hardly dared look. But then the mass of hair was free. She clutched it in one hand and lifted it, quickly pulled down the collar of his shirt.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she answered. "A fly." She reached out and touched his pale skin, registered his damp heat. Tiny white hairs curled beneath her hand, oily with sweat. There was a mark, and it looked like a moon. Of course, she had seen it many times before, only now she saw it with new eyes. The mark was bluish-purple, like a mis-shapen circle, and not very big.

Sango felt faint, disoriented, removed from the world. This is not the life I know, she thought, and stood on tiptoe to kiss her brother's neck, right on the place where tha skin was stained.

"You are odd tonight," he said, wriggling away. "What's got into you? Haven't fall en in love yourself, I hope!"

She managed to laugh. "No. Any man worth my love lives only in storybooks."

He turned and put an arm about her waist. "Good. I would be jealous." Together they walked into the castle.


	4. Love

**_3_**

_**Love**_

**ONCE SANGO KNEW OF **the demons, she searched for evidence. Each night before she slept, she would compose her mind to recieve more strange dreams. None came that she could remember. After the talk on the clifftop, Kagura did not mention the subject again, and Sango sensed it was now closed until she reached an age when she could be absorbed into her great-great-grandmother's sisterhood. It was easier to discover things about her ancestress. There was a statue of her in the solarium. Ilcretia Dog. Sango had previously ignored the statue as part of the surroundings; it peered whitely through spreading palms that came from warmer shores in the south. Now, Sango decided she looked very much like this fabled ancestress herself. Because she look at the piece with new eyes, she realized the pose was rather strange, not at all formal. Ilcretia stood erect with her head thrown back, her eyes staring, as if she beheld something marvellous in the sky. Her arms were rigid by her sides, fists clenched, and one toe peeped beneath her gown as if she was about to step forward off a cliff into the unknown. It was difficult to tell whether she was beautiful or not, because the whiteness of the stone seemed to blur her features, but her posture blazed with energy. She had lived in Old Caradore, which was nearly half a day's ride away up the coast. Sango had never been there. It was a ruin now, best forgotten. Too many terrible things had happened there. Ilcretia had come to new Caradore with her children, and had made it a home. She had clearly been a survivor of great inner resource. Here, she had built up her sisterhood from the memory of pain. she had not succumbed to melancholy or despair. Sango imagined her commissioning this statue, leaving it as a reminder for all future generations: be strong and fearless.

On one occasion Inu Yasha caught Sango meditating before the statue. She jumped when she he was there, felt strangely guilty. Inu Yasha wrapped an arm about her shoulders. "Mad granny!" he said with a laugh. "Why are you staring at her like that?"

"She wasn't mad!" Sango blurted out before she could stem the words.

Inu Yasha cast her a sidelong glance. "But she _looks_ mad. Can't you see it? The sculptor caught her grief in stone. She's contemplating throwing herself from the battlements, because her husband is dead,"

It occured to Sango that Inu Yasha's remarks suggested he knew something about their family history too. But from where? Kagura had told her it was secret. "How do you know that?"

"Dada told me a long time ago. The statue used to scare me, and he said that women's grief was scary."

"Did he say how her husband died?"

Inu Yasha shrugged. "Can't remember. Perhaps it was a riding accident, like Dadda's."

Sango smiled. "No. Perhaps she poisoned him and was driven mad by guilt."

He grinned. "You see? Scary!"

Sango yelped and hit out at him, and together they ran from the solarium, leaving the statue to continue her endless ultimate step.

**SANGO ALSO BEGAN TO **view Kikyo in a different light. Her family was involved in the sisterhood. Did Kikyo know about it? Sometimes, Sango was tempted to make a leading remark and see where it went, but something always stayed her tongue. She remembered the ferocity in Kagura's eyes as she'd made her sister utter a vow of silence. She had sworn on Inu Yasha's life and must not break it. Still, as the years progressed, it became ever more clear that Kikyo thought of herself Inu's future wife. Sango became increasingly uncomfortable with the idea. She loved Kikyo, but sometimes felt jealous.

Despite Montimer Leckery's scant home leaves, Saska continued to bear him children---after Rin, another daughter and two sons. Kikyo began to talk more often of when she would have children of her own. Saska plainly encouraged her. She would often make light-hearted comments about how her daughter and Inu should soon be talking about the future. Sango's face would burn on these occasions, prompting Saska to mention Miroku's name. She seemed to think Sango was embarrassed about adult relationships, and talk of Inu Yasha and Kikyo only mad her think of her own marital destiny. Miroku could not have been unaware of the almost salacious currents that seemed to swirl about the two households as the youngsters all moved into their late teens, yet he never gave any indication of how he felt about it. Sango wavered between feeling relived and outraged. She tried to imagine Miroku kissing her in the way that her imaginary heros had done a few years before, but the image just wouldn't stick. She appreciated his looks and liked his company, yet he was always so distant from her, as if they never made a real connection.

One day, Sango said to her brother,"Do you want to marry Kikyo?"

It disturbed her that her question didn't make him look surprised. If anything, a certain furtiveness crept over his face. He looked away from her. "Well, I'll have to marry somebody," he said lamely.

"Do you love her?"

She saw the color creep up his neck. "Oh, Sango, shut up! If I marry her, it won't be for a long time. I have to go to Magrast next spring. You know that."

Yes, she knew that. The summons had come. The emperor cordially invited the heir of Caradore to the city, to take up the position of an officer in the imperial army. Miroku too would soon be gone, like his father before him. As Sango bacame older, she became more aware of what was going on in the world.Reality intruded into her dreams. Caradore was treated like a breeding ground for officers. The emperor regarded its inhabitants as good stock, and kept them plump and fertile in the corner of the empire. The empire had remained more or less static for forty years or so, with various problem areas on the borders, but now, for whatever reason, the emperor schemed to expand his territory. The offical line was that Magravandias wanted to fill the world with the divine presence of Madragore, and strip its barbaric corners of brutal overlords and oppressive governments. Perhaps that was true, and the Magravands acted upon purely noble instincts. But all about the world, there must be places like Caradore, whose own gods and magic had been suppressed and destroyed, whose sons were bred like horses to swell the ranks of the army: all in the name of the lord of wolves. It was a holy war, and because of that, without pity.

Sango knew that sometimes men didn't come back from the campaigns and that all the noble families in the district were rent by gaping holes that grief couldn't fill. Inu Yasha would be fairly safe, because he was marked to be a general, protected behind a horde of men who would soak up the arrows, the sword-thrusts, the poisonous steams. Miroku might teach a similar elevated position, but it would take longer.

On the night bafore Inu Yasha was due to leaveCaradore, all the local families gathered at the Dog domain for a melancholy, yet boisterous, celebration. Sango felt feverish, as if there was some buisness she hadn't concluded. Inu Yasha looked radiant, as if he were pleased to be going away. Sango had to leave the party, and went out onto one of the terraces, where the spring breeze cut across her face. She realized her cheeks were wet; some tears had escaped without her noticing them. She heard footsteps and sensed a male presence. It would be him. What would she say? What was there to say? Then, something unfamiliar about the other's smell, or sound, made her go tense. It wasn't Inu. She turned and saw it was Miroku, looking down at her shyly from beneath a mop of hair. He had grown so tall, so angular. He was leaving with Inu and she'd forgotten about it. Now, the proposal would come, she thought, because Saska would have bullied him into it. She wanted to say, "Yes, all right, we might as well!" even before he spoke.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked her.

She remembered the tears and brushed them away. "No, not really. What do you expect?" She didn't want to be harsh, but something about the coziness of the situation annoyed her. "Have you come to ask me to marry you?"

He laughed nervously. "Sango, you are the daughter of the waves! Lashing and eroding the rocks of male resolve."

His comment surprised her, and she softened towards him. "I'm sorry. I just can't bear the thought of Inu leaving---nor you, of course. It seems so unfair. Our life is here, in Caradore. Let the emperor do as he likes. He should just leave us alone."

He took a step closer, ignoring her remarks. "It would please our families if we were to be married, Sango. I know this will be an alliance of convenience rather than passion, but is there anyone else you would rather have?" He did not ask that through arrogance, but particality. There was no one else. The Leckerys and the Dogs had grown up together. They were already one unit.

"I know, Miroku. Yes, of course we shall marry. Perhaps when you have your first leave?"

He exhaled in what seemed to be relief. Had he thought she might refuse him? "Yes. You might not believe me, but it is something I will look forward to."

She laughed. "I'm not sure I do believe you, Miroku. You have never struck me as a romantic type."

He grinned. "I just want a wife who's not afraid of getting her shoes dirty, that's all."

"Ah, so the rock and tree climbing will continue, then?"

"Of course. It is a prerequisite."

At this point, Sango realized that being married to Miroku wouldn't be too much of a trial. Then she remembered Kikyo, and some of her warmth fled. "And your sister? Is she too happily betrothed?"

Miroku had the grace to look uncomfortable. He frowned. "I thought you knew. Inu asked for her hand a week or so ago. I can't believe he hasn't mentioned it."

"Nor I," Sango said lightly, although her insides had turned to ice. "I would have imagined Kikyo would want a big fanfare about it tonight."

He shrugged, "I don't know."

Sango sighed. "Oh well. It isn't something I hadn't expected." He would think about how her tone suggested she'd just heard a lover of hers had announced he would marry another women. Let him think what he liked, Wickedness stole into her. "I suppose we must kiss now." She faced him. "Well, come on then."

She expected him to cringe and mutter some excuse, but he merely rolled his eyes and took her in his arms. It was hard to imagine where he had learned this skill. Had he frolicked with maids and gypsy girls? Had Inu, too? She closed her eyes, wondering if this was pleasant of rather disgusting. Was it invasion or sharing? A strange sound insinuated itself into her mind, like a mournful howl from far away. She pulled back. "What was that?"

Miroku looked puzzled. "What?"

She could still hear it. It was like a song, something unearthly and terrible, yet full of despair. She turned to the balustrade. "It's coming from the sea. Could it be a bell or something?"

Miroku stood beside her. "I can't hear anything."

The sound had gone now, sobbing away on the wind. Sango shuddered. She felt desolate.

They went back into the castle, arm in arm. Now, she belonged to him and the air between them had become charged. Strange how so great a change could happen so quickly. Sango saw Inu Yasha standing beside one of the heavy columns that were garlanded with ivy and sea-moss. Kikyo was a pale presence beside him, her colorless hair a cloud around her shoulders. She was dressed in white, like a bride, and her cheeks were flushed. Her sisters, Rin and Kaede stood close to her, proud and protective. Sango knew her own eyes did not sparkle as Kikyo's did. She was a cool presence beside her future husband, no more than a friend to him.

"Inu!" Sango exclaimed sweeping up to her brother and Kikyo, and dragging Miroku behind. "Wonderful news. I am to be a wife."

Inu Yasha's expression was unreadable, but she supposed he already knew Miroku's intentions. Kikyo uttered a delighted squeal and bounced forward to hug her friend.

Sango took a step back, fixed her brother with a stare. "But I'm surprised you didn't tell me about your betrothal to Kikyo. Aren't you going to announce it tonight?" She could not be warm; it just wasn't in her. Kikyo's face froze into a expression of alarm and confusion. Where was the girlish exchange of happiness she had expected?

"It will be announced," Inu Yasha answered stonily.

A wall had come between them, a soft wall of Kikyo. How could it hurt this much?

"I want to dance," Sango told Miroku, and hauled him onto the floor, where enchanted whirled through the candlelight to the skirl of violins, the heart-beat of drums.

**AS THE FIRST GUESTS **began to leave, Sango wandered out of the castle and down to the beach. She could not think; she was numb. The sea crashed as hungrily as ever at the shore, the cresting waves like the curled spined of dog demons. She knew that Inu Yasha would come to find her and he did. She wanted to tell him what she knew about the sisterhood: shock him. But when she sensed his soft footfall in the sand behind her, the urge to speak faded away. He did not know what he was but she did.

"Sango," he said. "You are angry with me."

She did not trust herself to speak.

"I would have told you, only I knew you wouldn't like it." He paused. "This is difficult; we both know how much."

She turned round then. "What are you saying, Inu?"

His gaze slid away from hers. "I don't know really."

"Then ler me tell you. I'm jealous of any other women who shares your hearth, your life, your bed. I love you, Inu, you are part of me, and if some aspect of that is impure, then ler it be so. I will hate her for having you!" Even as she spoke, Sango knew Inu Yasha harboured no such jealously for Miroku. She turned away from him again, furious because her eyes were filling with tears. She shouldn't cry; it was weak.

"Sango," he said quietly, and put his hands on her shoulders.

She raised an arm, but would not face him. "Go, Inu. Go now. I pray Madragore will protect you in the army. My love will go with you."

He squeezed her shoulders briefly. "We shall speak when I return. Take care, Sango." Then he was gone.

Sango stared out at the ocean, seeing nothing. The splinter of the waves upon the sand were just a roar in her head, part of her hectic blood. What had she said?


End file.
